The Fight of Genii
by Lovable Loner
Summary: Moriarty and Irene have a little fight...literally. one-shot, Sherlock/Irene with Moriarty/Irene one sided.


**A/N: Hi, do not fear I have not abandoned my NCIS story 'Dark Awakening', I did, however really, really need to do a Sherlock/Irene fic (Even though Sherlock doesn't really appear in it). If anyone else loves Irene Adler (I know you're out there!) then plez visit my community '****A Scandal in Bohemia****'.**

**Plez review, I welcome any feed back and I may just be persuaded to write some more Irene/Sherlock!**

**(To anyone who is not used to Fencing, a foil the sword they use)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Sherlock' or any of the characters; they belong to the BBC and ****Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. If I did, Irene would already be on the show and there would have been more than 3 episodes!**

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Feet danced across the floor, as fierce, poetic moves were performed by the two opponents, both clad in white. Their foils connected rapidly as they fought each other, neither wanting to lose. The battle became more complex as it increased brutality - both figures were quickly losing breath. The smaller of the two quickly got the advantage and drove the foil into the others chest, just above the heart.

"I suppose that means you won" he panted, hands out stretched either side in mock surrender, as the foil was removed from his torso.

The victor moved smoothly away, not letting the rival out of her trained sight, removing her helmet as she went. The lusciously silky chocolate curls pooled down, escaping it's entrapment as it came to rest on her shoulders. She performed a seductive shake of her hair, making the man even hungrier for her.

"I thought you had realised by now James, I _always_ win!" She smirked as she placed her helmet and foil down on the bench, which stood to the side of the large room.

Moriarty's lips curved up as he gazed upon the faultless woman in front of him. "How many men have under estimated you, my dearest Irene?"

Irene's full, ruby lips turned to a flirtatious smirk as she looked back up at Moriarty.

"What? Other than you?" She replied, her voice enriched with smooth humour; his stomach twisted in anger and desire as she lifted a delicate finger to his collar, gently tracing his chest. His anger boiled when they locked eyes, he saw no desire, just mockery, mentally cursing that she was most likely seeing his yeaning. She leaned toward him, her lips brushing softly against his ear, hot breath against his skin. He closed his eyes, hoping that he would, one day, be able to consume her. Meanwhile, praying that that day would be today.

He internally screamed when she said, "Goodbye, James."

She turned to leave but Moriarty had other plans. His hand lashed out and grabbed her arm, simultaneously spinning her around and slamming her against the closest wall. His hands crushed her wrists to the barrier with enough force to leave bruises - Irene was trapped. Her eyes displayed shock and rage before they went blank, her brow and lips curled up as she looked into his eyes.

"Something I forgot?" In a voice so innocent that Moriarty barely believed it had came from such a temptress.

"Why _him_?" He hissed dangerously, Irene's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, so he asked again. "Why _him_ and not _me_?" He was sure she now understood but the woman was still presenting confusion. "_Sherlock!"_ The growl was pure animalistic as Moriarty tried to comprehend how Sherlock was able to acquire such a magnificent creature. _Sherlock _was rumoured to be the only man that had been allowed and able to devour her and not be a complete pawn or have his mother's purls stolen. He just couldn't understand what that _pest_ had that he didn't, and he understood everything. It was infuriating.

"Jealous?" Irene whispered, a smile returning to her lips; however Jim could still see the fear lurking within her.

"To say that I'm jealous is to say _he_ has something I don't and can't have. And _that_ is nonsense." He ridiculed, but they both knew the truth.

"You know..." she brushed his lips with hers, barely touching, mocking him as he closed his eyes and held back a groan, "this whole Alfa male tussle between the two of you is getting _really_ tiring."

He could feel the smile emanating from her, and as he opened his eyes to gaze down at her, he saw no fear, just glimmers of mischief.

Moriarty was puzzled by the sudden change for a second until a potent knee connected sharply with his groin. He collapsed in pain; his hands instantly protecting his now agonizing member from further damage.

Irene stepped away from the wall, free from his hands, and circled her pray. A content smile graced her face as she looked down at the crippled man. She knelt down beside him, her smile brightening as she leaned forward, her voice sickly sweet.

"Now, now James, that won't do at all. I thought you had more brains; no body owns me, not even Sherlock and certainly not you. You say that too many people underestimate me, yet you do it every time we meet. You men are such arrogant fouls, _it's such a pity_."

With that she stood and started toward the door. She stooped at the exit's threshold, tilting her back a bit to look at him and say, "I do hope this hasn't hurt our business; that would be such a _crime." _She chuckled and Moriarty could do nothing but watch her disappear.


End file.
